Bonfires and Burns
by emmaswaning
Summary: Oneshot. A friend of mine suggested this and I couldn't help but write it. Jane and Maura have a bonfire in Maura's backyard. Maura is particularly happy because she's never had one before. Fluff, fluff, and more fluff. That's about it.


_**A/N:** This fic just gets less quality as it progresses. You've been warned. One shot, Jane/Maura (obviously), and unbeta'd. _

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rizzoli & Isles (though I wish I did); they are property of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, and the good people at TNT/Warner Bros._

* * *

Much to Jane Rizzoli's surprise, Dr. Maura Isles, her best friend, had never had a bonfire. She had waved it off when the topic came up, saying that the boarding school in Paris had never accommodated to such activities, nor had her parents encouraged the activity of gathering around a fire and roasting hot dogs or marshmallows. Jane was sitting at Maura's kitchen island, gingerly sipping a large mug of coffee while Maura stood, preparing an omelet. She'd come over for an early morning visit, much like almost always did on her days off. Her eyes grew wide as she thought of something, setting the cup down.

"Don't tell me you've _never_ had s'mores."

"S'mores?" Maura questioned. She then stated factually, "Combining fire-roasted marshmallows and a square of chocolate between two graham crackers, thus creating a sandwich of sorts."

Jane leaned forward, her mouth slightly agape. "How is it that you've _never_ had one, yet you know _exactly_ what it is?" Jane held her hand up to stop Maura from answering. "Nevermind. Your fancy French school warped your poor young mind. Come on, we're goin' to buy a fire pit."

Before Maura could even form a reply, Jane stood up and snatched her keys from the tabl,e heading out the door to the car. Maura shrugged and followed, never too far behind the raven-haired detective. They left just before 11am (Maura was surprised that Jane was up that early in the first place), giving them plenty of time to find a suitable and tasteful fire pit to go in Maura's backyard. They walked down the isles of Home Depot together, debating on whether or not to go for a classic circular metal pit or - as Jane suggested - or as Maura put it, a 'classier' fire pit: one with a tile and marble finish. Ultimately, after about half an hour of bickering and gabbing, Maura decided that she wanted the natural marble and wicker table/pit combination that would compliment the patio.

* * *

The next stop they made was at Costco _(they really did have everything)_ for hot dogs, a large bag of marshmallows, about eight Hershey's bars, and skewers to use for roasting everything on. Jane disappeared in Costco with the S'mores supplies, but returned moments later with a bundle of small firewood over her shoulders. Maura smiled. _She is quite a specimen._

* * *

By 3pm, Jane had began setting up the pit in the backyard while Maura began dinner. Jane insisted that they waited until sunset to get the fire started for aesthetic purposes. Jane set up the blocks of pre-cut wood in a formation where a fire would easily begin and be maintained and then walked into the house.

"Need any help?"

Maura shook her head but smiled. "No, thank you. Unless you would like to prepare the salad; the tiella is almost ready."

Jane leaned over Maura's shoulder when she took the dish out of the oven. She placed it on the counter and let it cool, turning to Jane. "You are quite the master chef, Maura. I'm sure ma couldn't do a better job with tiella." Jane paused, "don't tell her I said that, though." Maura chuckled. After about ten minutes of letting the meal cool, they at ate the dinner table, reminiscing of the crazy work week that they had faced. Mid-meal, Maura had began talking about the origins of the Italian dish that they were currently indulging in. Jane put her elbow on the table and pressed her head against her palm.

"Tiella is thought to originate from the Abruzzo-Molise area of Italy." Maura stated factually. "It's a classic specialty dish in Gaeta, just outside of Naples and Rome."

"Remember, you're talking to a Boston-Italian girl, Maura." Jane laughed. "Believe me, I've seen many classic Italian dishes."

* * *

Maura smirked. When they both finished their dinners, Jane glanced excitedly out of the window in Maura's kitchen, grabbing the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate, while Maura fetched the matches, lighter, and hot dogs, following Jane outside. Maura had decided to change from her normal outfit - a pencil skirt, red silk blouse, and blazer - to a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a heavy sweater as the temperature dropped when the sun began to go down. Jane opted for a simple hoodie over top of her t-shirt and jeans. Jane started the fire and Maura brought down two of her large patio chairs.

"Jane, before you sit down, there's beer in the fridge if you'd like one."

Jane paused as she lit a match and threw it in the fire pit after she lit a small bundle of newspapers aglow. "Oh?" Generally Maura didn't keep beer in her house; she usually had decade-old Chteau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac, or something along the fancy French wine routes. Maura nodded and kept her eyes on the fire.

"I bought a case for you. I assumed you were going to come over, so in turn I planned ahead."

Jane smiled at the thoughtfulness of her friend, then gestured to the fire as she walked back into Maura's house. "Keep an eye on that for a second, I'll be back." She returned, cold beer in hand, and plopped down on the patio chair.

"Are you _sure_ it's safe?" Maura asked, watching the fire slowly grow.

Jane pursed her lips, mimicking deep thought. "I'm positive, Maur. Why don't you enjoy some marshmallows?"

Maura shrugged and opened the bag of marshmallows, sticking on on the campfire skewer. She sat in front of the fire, patiently waiting for it to roast. Maura didn't realize it (she was in inexperienced camper) but the marshmallow was too close to the fire and it immediately caught on fire, charring. She quietly shrieked in surprise. Jane laughed, setting her beer down and walking over to her friend. She took the skewer from Maura's hands and blew out the flaming marshmallow. She took another one from the bag, demonstrating to Maura where to hold it and for how long.

"Alright, so you just hold it here," Jane said, "and roast it til it's a golden colour. Then I'll show you had to make s'mores. 'Kay?"

Maura said simply, "Yes."

Maura prided herself on adaptability, so she easily picked up the 'skill' of marshmallow-roasting. When she roasted a marshmallow to a golden colour, Jane came over again, graham crackers and chocolate in hand. The fire pit Maura chose was a good choice because it had an added bit of table space where they could set things down on. Jane set the graham crackers down on the table and Maura gingerly placed the marshmallow on it. Jane placed a square of chocolate on it and then the top graham cracker.

Maura scrunched her face, noting her sticky fingers. "This is _quite_ unpleasant, Jane."

Jane said, "Yeah, well, you get used to it. Eat your s'more."

Maura carefully took the smooshed combination of cracker, chocolate, and marshmallow between her fingers and took a bite, her fingers still uncomfortably sticky with marshmallow, she noted. She smiled brightly after a few bites. "This is delicious!"

"You, my friend, are _so_ deprived."

* * *

After about two hours, they still sat outside by the fire, watching dusk turn to the darkness of night. From Maura's backyard in Beacon Hill, they could see a handful of stars, but not that many. Still, it was a refreshing change. Maura sat hunched over in her chair, while Jane had moved hers to sit beside Maura after about a half hour. Maura was going to make another s'more, setting the graham crackers down and got the chocolate ready. Jane sipped the beginning of her second beer, watching the other woman as she went along.

_She's cute when she gets happy._

Jane shook the thought away, putting her beer down. She grabbed another skewer so she could roast a hot dog. Just as Jane placed the hot dog she intended to roast on the skewer, she heard a sharp gasp from the woman beside her and saw the skewer drop.

"Dammit." Maura whispered.

"What? What happened?" Jane watched the other woman clench her hand tightly and hold it. "You burn yourself?"

Maura nodded.

Jane promptly stood up from the patio chair and grasped Maura's uninjured hand, leading her into the house. "C'mon, let _me_ get this. I can't really see out there anyways." Jane led Maura into her kitchen and ran cold water in the sink, placing Maura's hand under it.

"This is no more than a first-degree burn, if a second." Maura said. "The recommended treatment of a burn begins with running the affected area under cold water for ten to fifteen minutes."

"That's a _nasty_ one." Jane said painstakingly.

"I'm the Chief Medical Examiner, Jane, I'm _sure_ I could manage."

"Well, I'm your _friend_." Jane retorted with a small smile. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter while Maura stood and ran her hand under the water.

After twelve minutes passed, Maura took her burned hand away from the water and carefully dried it with a dishtowel. Jane walked forward, tenderly grasping Maura's hand and assessing the burn. She winced at the slight pain when Jane's hand ran over the red area of her hand.

* * *

"I don't believe I've ever had a burn in _this_ fashion before."

_"This fashion?"_ Jane laughed. "You mean burned via bonfire."

Maura nodded.

"How's it feel?"

Maura sighed. "Jane. I've got it from here."

The detective shrugged, furrowing her brow. She mumbled, "I don't like seeing you hurt is all."

* * *

Jane walked out of the room momentarily, getting a first aid kit from the hall closet. Maura kept her hand out and walked to Jane, who held a small wad of gauze in her hands. Jane gently wrapped the gauze around her hand to keep the burn from getting infected (though, Maura noted that it was still only a first-degree burn and the odds of that happening were very slim), still holding Maura's hand after it was wrapped. Maura glanced up at Jane, for the first time really noticing their height difference. Without her distinctive (ridiculous) heels - and without the Jane's slightly heeled (fashion disaster) boots - she was about four or five inches shorter than the detective. Jane's gaze drifted from Maura's hand, held in hers, to Maura's eyes, then to Maura's lips - something that didn't go unnoticed.

"Jane, can I have my hand-"

Maura was taken aback by the detective, who had swiftly pressed her lips to Maura's without a warning of any sort. What Maura had assumed many times before was now confirmed: Jane was, indeed, a very good kisser. Maura happily reciprocated the impromptu kiss, sighing into Jane's mouth. Her right hand drifted to Maura's back, her left coming to brush against the side of her face. Maura's semi-injured hand rested in between the two women, while her right grasped Jane's shirt and pulled her closer. After about thirty seconds, Jane pulled away (only for the necessity of oxygen).

"I'm sorry, I-I've been wanting to do that for a _long_ time." Jand admitted.

Maura raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath, sighing. "I'm glad you did."

Jane smiled at her affectionately, gesturing to the patio. "Let's go back out there."

Maura joined Jane, eagerly grasping her hand as they walked back out to the fire.


End file.
